revving and wailing across the street, and in between cuts I can hear the whack, whack, whack! whack,
whack, whack! of a hammer. I look out the window and there’s Juli, spitting out nails and slamming them
in place. No kidding. She’s got nails lined up between her lips like steel cigarettes, and she’s swinging
that hammer full-arc, way above her head, driving nails into pickets like they’re going into butter.
For a split second there, I saw my head as the recipient of her hammer, cracking open like Humpty
Dumpty. I shuddered and dropped the curtain, ditched the homework, and headed for the TV.
They handymanned all week. And every night Granddad would come in with rosy cheeks and a huge
appetite and compliment my mom on what a great cook she was. Then Saturday happened. And the last
thing I wanted was to spend the day at home while my grandfather churned up dirt and helped plant Juli’s
yard. Mom tried to get me to do our own yard, but I would have felt ridiculous micromowing our grass
with Granddad and Juli making real changes right across the street.
So I locked myself in my room and called Garrett. He wasn’t home, and everybody else I called had
stuff they had to do. And hitting up Mom or Dad for a ride to the movies or the mall was hopeless. They’d
tell me I was supposed to be doing the yard.
What I was, was stuck.
And what I wound up doing was looking out the stupid window at Juli and my grandfather. It was a
totally lame thing to do, but that’s what I did.
I got nailed doing it, too. By my grandfather. And he, of course, had to point me out to Juli, which made
me feel another two inches shorter. I dropped the curtain and blasted out the back door and over the
fence. I had to get out of there.
I swear I walked ten miles that day. And I don’t know who I was madder at — my grandfather, Juli, or
me. What was wrong with me? If I wanted to make it up to Juli, why didn’t I just go over there and help?
What was stopping me?
I wound up at Garrett’s house, and man, I’d never been so glad to see anyone in my life. Leave it to
Garrett to get your mind off anything important. That dude’s the master. We went out back and shot hoops,
watched the tube, and talked about hitting the water slides this summer.
And when I got home, there was Juli, sprinkling the yard.
She saw me, all right, but she didn’t wave or smile or anything. She just looked away.
Normally what I’d do in that situation is maybe pretend like I hadn’t seen her, or give a quick wave and
charge inside. But she’d been mad at me for what seemed like ages. She hadn’t said word one to me since
the morning of the eggs. She’d completely dissed me in math a couple days before when I’d smiled at her,
trying to tell her I was sorry. She didn’t smile back or nod or anything. She just turned away and never
looked back.
I even waited for her outside the classroom to say something, anything, about her fixing up the yard and
how bad I felt, but she ditched me out the other door, and after that anytime I got anywhere near her, she’d
find some way to skate around me.
So there she was, watering the yard, making me feel like a jerk, and I’d had enough of it. I went up to
her and said, “It’s looking real good, Juli. Nice job.”
“Thanks,” she said without smiling. “Chet did most of it.”
Chet? I thought. Chet? What was she doing, calling my grandfather by his first name? “Look, Juli,” I
said, trying to get on with why I was there. “I’m sorry for what I did.”
She looked at me for a second, then went back to watching the water spray across the dirt. Finally she
said, “I still don’t get it, Bryce. Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I … I don’t know. It was dumb. I should have. And I shouldn’t have said anything about the yard,
either. It was, you know, out of line.”
I was already feeling better. A lot better. Then Juli says, “Well, maybe it’s all for the better,” and starts
bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, acting more like her old self. “Doesn’t it look great? I